


A Blade at His Neck

by Snowfiredragon78



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Eden is an asshole, Gen, I do not own Assassin's Creed, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14950925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowfiredragon78/pseuds/Snowfiredragon78
Summary: For all his life Desmond had a blade at his neck.First it was held by his father and Assassins. Then by Abstergo and the Templars. In the end it was Juno; who both held the blade and the one who slid it across his throat.Desmond never thought about being free of it. Yet here he was.Not dead and free.How long was that going to last?





	1. Desmond I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond wakes up.

When Desmond touched the orb he thought it was over. That all the pain he felt was over and he would rest. He thought that he would die and with his sacrifice, the world is saved.

Desmond mainly thought he would rest in peace. Be done with the world and all its hardships.

But Desmond woke up. Desmond woke up and he felt cheated. Cheated by gods known and unknown. Touching the orb should have killed him. Juno had said so. So why the hell is he still alive?

Desmond put that behind him though; he decided to curse the gods later. When he knew where he was.

He looked around saw two things that stood out. One was the fact he was on a roof. The other was the fact there was a rooftop garden next to him. 

The only place he saw those; was in memories. Memories that weren’t his own.

There were other buildings, other gardens, every roof was a light color. Like sand or clay. It looked like he was on the outskirt of some kind of city. 

He felt a sting come from his arm. Looking at it, he felt panic curl around his heart. His arm was covered in scars. Burn scars. From his figure tips, the worst part, all the way to his shoulder, which was a light red.

He held it up to the sun to see it better. Only to catch sight of something else. It loomed over the city. It’s shadow swallowed buildings whole. It stuck out like a sore thumb. Desmond knew that place. He knew it, he climbed it, he killed in it.

Desmond felt the panic turn to dread.

It was Masyaf.


	2. Desmond II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond thinks about his new life.

Masyaf stood tall, unbroken, untarnished, and most of, it stood unafraid. It was a king among commoners.

And while not a commoner, Desmond was afraid.

He didn’t know why he was scared. It could be because of many reasons or none at all. Whatever it was Desmond knew one thing for sure. He was not going into Masyaf.

Desmond decided to wait till nightfall to drop down to the street. And in the midday sun, gave thought to one of his problems. Altair.

Altair was a problem. Not because they looked alike, that was part of it, but no, that wasn’t it.

The problem was Altair’s shoot first and ask questions later. If Altair were to catch a look at Desmond. Well, Desmond shuddered at the thought. As it were, Altair was one of the reason to skip town.

But at the thought of Altair; Malik and Kadar popped to mind. Along with their ill fated mission against Robert de Sable. 

Malik and Kadar. One is dead and the other forced to live with one arm, the guilt of a survivor, and the hatred for a man who was once a friend.

They were another reason to leave. Desmond didn’t know what to do if he was faced with them or even with only one of them. Would he try to save them? Or should he let fate take it course? And If he goes with the second choice; What will he do about Al Mualim? He just didn’t know what to do.

All thoughts where put all the back burner as his stomach growled and the day gave way to night.

\--

Desmond jumped to rooftop to rooftop, not unlike a shadow. Or an Assassin on the hunt.

His first stop was a clothes shop. He grabbed black leggings, a white hooded tunic top, finished off with a red sash and one glove to cover his burned hand. He blamed to coloring on living Altair, Ezio, and Connor’s memories.

Next was food and water. Desmond stole a water skin, and for food, he grabbed a sack and filled with apples, rice, sugar, coffee, and anything else he could get his hands on.

\--

The night was slowly lighting up with dawn’s light when he got done stealing what he needed. 

He grabbed seeds of many plants that when grown he could, hopefully, eat. He also nicked a pair of daggers that painfully simple and barley durable. He grimaced as he looked at them; he would upgrade when he had the money. 

Desmond sat on top of the of the roof he woke up on and watched the first sunrise in his new life. It felt oddly calming and surreal. Watching should it of scared him- just like watching the streets down below fill up. But while the streets will never be like New York, he still felt like it was going to be alright. He felt like the world was never going to end; like that was no blade at his neck.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. He still needed a plan but Desmond decided he would work on it after a small nap.


	3. Desmond lll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond runs a tavern.

Desmond watched people past by underneath him. Not noticing or caring about the human shaped shadow on the ground.

It’s been two weeks since him waking up. Desmond had turned the abandoned building that he had woke up on; into his home. It apparently belonged to a merchant that was run out of town by the Assassins.

Desmond found his makeshift home quite welcoming. There was a small creek and was a peaceful area. The garden was flourishing. All in all Desmond got a good deal in his new life. Heck, Desmond got his bartending job back. He was the proud owner of the only tavern in the city state. Named adaptly as The Tavern.

It was kind of funny. When Abstergo had him; all he wanted was to be free and go back to his bartending. But it wasn’t till his ‘Death’ did he make it behind a bar. Irony at the fineness. 

Desmond continued to people watch for a bit more before leaving. Nothing left on the roof to show he was there other than a feather.

Moving fast, Desmond ran to his tavern. While in the first week of The Tavern being open, Desmond learnt a lot of things. One thing that he learnt was that the year was 1188. Another was the fact Assassins barely leave the fortress. The last was that he still couldn’t cook. 

The villagers seem to enjoy the tavern and Desmond found this new life calming. 

\--

Desmond stood behind the bar a served drinks. 

The Tavern was half full and Desmond quite liked that. Most were hiding from the midday heat and were enjoying the cool. Till the tavern door opened and in came an Assassin.

“Welcome,” Desmond called out. He was cleaning off a few tables and delivering drinks. So really it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t notice the silence that fell over the building. But when he finally looked up he took notice of it and the reason why.

There in the doorway, standing awkwardly still, was an Assassins. Clade in white with a red sash and no weapons, not even an hidden blade, Desmond knew right away they were a novice.

“Take a seat! Now what can I get ya?” Desmond’s accent made an appearance as the hooded novice took a seat with his back facing the wall. 

“Water.” The novice had a quiet voice and seemed a bit shy from the way they were fidgeting.

“Comin’ right up,” Desmond went in the back room and grabbed to requested water. When Desmond walked back to the serving area; he found the noise had slowly returned though not as loud as before. “What brings an Assassin out the Fortress?”

The novice took the drink but didn’t answer the question for a moment. “Relaxing.” 

Desmond hid a smile. The novice seemed to know of the word called underestimating. With saying ‘Relaxing’ the novice effective put the villagers at peace and at the same time made them underestimate the novice.

The small part of Desmond that was Altair and Ezio approved.

\--

The novice stayed in the tavern for a bit. 

The villagers coming and going. No fights broke out and Desmond found it funny that one novice seemed to scare a city full of people. But at the same time he was worried about the rift between the two groups.

The novice dropped the amount owed on the bar top before making a quiet exit after saying, “Thank you.”

Desmond suddenly found his new life a bit more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The updates will be slow for a while. I just got done moving so yeah.


	4. Desmond IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Novice says his name.

The next few days followed in quick accession.

The novice was like a police officer in the tavern. No one started fights when he was in and even when he was out, the villagers were still careful. Though there were those hard headed idiots who wanted a fight.

“Back again,” Desmond called out as the tavern door swung open.

The novice looked at Desmond before nodding and taking his seat in the back. The novice’s hood was still up but Desmond could make a bit of a smile. 

“Same old?” The question was answered by a nodded. Desmond gave a quiet snort at the nonverbal answer.

Desmond pulled out a chair as he set the water, “Any news of the outside world?”

“Nothing new,” both the novice and Desmond signed at the answer.

Desmond felt guilty that he wished something would happen. He felt like he betraying Shaun and Rebecca. Like all their hard work to keep him alive was useless. The first weeks in Masyaf was fine. The calming repetition of the days of work in the medieval world. Desmond was grateful for them, he really was. 

But…

He missed Altair, Ezio, even Connor. He missed the adrenaline pumping jumps, the daring escapes from the guards, the comforting presence of his ancestors.

Was it bad to want to be with them? Not Shaun, Rebecca, not even his own father. Desmond didn't miss them like he missed his ancestors.

“I wonder when something will happen,” he wondered out loud. The novice looked at him. Desmond just knew that the novice raised an eyebrow.

Desmond was drawn out of his thoughts as a crash echoed the tavern.

The duo jumped up and looked to the side.

There was a group of nine men. All were drunk or at least tipsy.

“Hey fellas, calm down,” Desmond yelled. He started walking toward the ground when a bottle was thrown at him.

Desmond dodged to the side and focused on the largest of the group. The assassin in training stood just behind Desmond.

“Sirs you can’t fight in here!” Desmond’s yell went unheard as the fight truly got started.

Desmond cast a look at the novice, their eyes met before they nodded and joined the fray. 

Fists and legs flew through the air and Desmond got the sense of deja vu. 

Desmond went left and grabbed someone’s wrist. He felt the instincts from Altair and Ezio wake up and take notice. Pulling the wrist toward him; he rammed his knee into their gut and used the free hand to knock them out.

Looking over to his right, Desmond saw the novice had everything in hand.

By the time the two where done, the group of nine had become a group of three with several sleeping bodies.

“Do not fight in my tavern, okay?” Desmond said a slight tilt to his voice. A tilt that spoke of danger, a tilt that he learned at the knees of Ezio Auditore himself.

The three men ran right out and left their friends on the ground.

“Well that was fast,” Desmond looked to the novice was about to leave. “ Wants your name?” The novice turned back before lifting an eyebrow. “ we fought together I think that earns rights to know your name. My names Desmond.”

There was silence for a bit before a soft, “Kadar. My name is Kadar.” Kadar then slipped into the shadows and disappeared. Leaving a shocked Desmond behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I've lost access to the computer and have been writing on my phone and tablet. So it will take longer to get things out and all but I'll try to get everything out on Wednesdays. 
> 
> Please tell me if you see any grammar mistakes or spelling mistakes.
> 
> Thank you for your kind words and your encouragements. It truly means a lot.


	5. Kadar I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kadar thinks about Desmomd.

When Kadar met Desmond– he didn’t expect much.

Desmond was originally his mission. The Tavern owner was a foreigner, an unknown, and what Altair would say– a threat.

Kadar was about to become an initiate. He only needed one more mission. The Foreigner was that mission.

He expected many things. He expected a violent meeting, he gave thought to distrust, surprise, and paranoia. What he didn’t expect was the reaction he did get. 

When Kadar walked into the tavern he was met with surprise, a welcoming smile and– Kadar thought this one was puzzling– nostalgia.

Nostalgia for what? He didn’t know. The only thing he did know was that Desmond looked like an Assassin and walked with an unusual amount of grace.

Studying Desmond was easy and hard at the same time. In the week he was watching the tavern owner he noticed meaning things. Like Desmond had two poorly made daggers, lived in the poor district, and liked heights.

The mission was only to last for a week but the day Kadar couldn’t truly leave.

That fight wasn’t his first fight nor was it his last. But there was something important about that fight. Maybe it was the fact that Kadar was close to the next level of the Brotherhood, maybe it was because Desmond looked at Kadar like he respected him, or perhaps it was the feeling of fighting with someone who didn’t look at him and see his father or brother. But who actually saw him. Saw Kadar Al-Sayf. 

Maybe because of that reason; Kadar gives Desmond his name.

Maybe because of those reasons that had Kadar altering a few things in his report. Things like Desmond knowing how to fight, or the fact he carries two daggers and dresses like a Brotherhood Assassin or the simple fact that Altair and Desmond looked alike.

If those things were left out. Well no one but him knew the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Life has been getting in the way and the next chapter is driving me crazy. So that update might be late but hopefully its not.


	6. Desmond V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond has a bad arm.

When Desmond woke up three weeks later; his arm was aching. It was swollen, sore, and heated to the touch. The scars seemed to stretch and strain with every breath. 

He slowly stood up and walked with hyper-awareness of the arm. The morning routine was slow— painstakingly slow.

Every movement threatened to bring on pain. It was like a snake coiled to strike. Every flicker of its tongue may mean a bite. Every heartbeat seemed to be prepared for the torment of pain that it knew was coming. 

Desmond slowly tied his sash before taking a deep breath and walking out the door.

It was nearly three months since he arrived and Desmond decided that he was content. He was happy with his home, proud of his business, and was quite pleased with the garden. Most of all though, he was just enjoying the ability to make his own choices.

His life in the twenty-first century felt like nothing more than a bad dream. His arm was the only thing that truly spoke of want he went through.

That same arm was aching up a storming and nothing seemed to sooth it. 

Water made it ach and spazz.

Mud did nothing more than make it dirty.

Leaving it been made it worse.

Desmond didn't want to leave Masyaf and the city around it.

Yet…

Looking down at the arm he saw the swelling, the black, red, and light pink skin, he saw the undeniable truth he time travel and that the world went to hell in a handbasket.

\--

“I’m going to Jerusalem.”

Kadar almost did a spit take. “Pardon?”

“I’m leaving for Jerusalem. I’ll be back in a fortnight,” Desmond continued to clean his glass ignoring the coughing and heaving Assassin.

“Why?”

Desmond wordlessly put his arm on the bar. Kadar’s eyes widened before he gently took Desmond’s arm in his hands.

“What happened?” 

The reply was barely above a whisper, “I played with fire and I got burned.”


	7. Desmond VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond leaves.

Desmond sat on top of an Arabian mare, Nalini. She was dark brown with a black mane and more than he ever imagined.

While he lived on The Farm, it wasn’t truly a farm. It was more like a boot camp. There were no animals other than attack/working dogs.

So Desmond liked to think that he was doing well as a first-time horse rider. Kadar stood to the side holding the reins. He didn’t seem happy with Desmond leaving and showed his displeasure in silence. And truth be told Desmond didn’t want to leave himself.

“Are you sure?” Ah, the Assassin-in-training speaks. Kadar glared at Desmond as though he heard that stray thought.

Desmond let a small smile grace his lips as he thought about the answer. 

Are you sure of what? Was he sure of leaving the city and his tavern? Sure about leaving the working girls in charge of the said tavern? Desmond was pretty sure that he will never be truly sure of anything. But he knew he had to leave.

So he gave the only answer he knew, “Yes.”

Kadar gave a sign as he handed the reins over. “You’ll be back in a fortnight?”

Desmond nodded. “Of course,” he took a deep breath before lightly thumping his legs on Nalini’s side to make her go. “See you later.”

As Desmond looked ahead at the path before him; he couldn’t help but feel a pull. Something was calling him, pulling him, toward something. 

Desmond felt a shiver go down his spine in anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter is not the best. School just kicked in for me so chapters may by slow. So yeah, Enjoy.


	8. Desmond VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond doesn't like fear.

Nalini walked strong and true down the path. She passed travelers and animals: she never wavered.

Desmond was thankful for that.

At first he was unsure of riding a horse but Kadar pushed it and had a convincing argument; now he was riding the horse.

Kadar may or may not hold his win over Desmond’s head. Desmond got back at him though– with not backing down about letting the working girls run the tavern.

He knew the working girls would take care of the tavern. They may not be Claudia and her girls and he may never meet her but… Claudia would never forgive him if he didn’t help them. He would never forgive himself.

Kadar may never understand his reasoning and Desmond was okay with that. As long as he can help them.

Desmond was pulled out of his thoughts when Nalini stopped.

Up ahead there was a group of people. Maybe five or six men stood in the middle of the path and Desmond didn’t dare to think that there weren't others hiding behind rocks and bushes.

He slided off of the mare and quickly hid behind a large rock. He looked around for a way to get around them. While he could fight and fight well for an average man. He was wasn’t even a novice when comparing his skills against those of the Brotherhood.

A novice could take a group of men. Desmond though…

He cast a gaze at the men that seemed to multiply before him.

Desmond could not.

—

It was night fall when something new happened. 

Desmond had settled down; hoping to wait out the group. 

The group looked to have set up camp in the middle of the path. From where he was it looked like three to four campfires.

It was when he planning a way to get around the bandits when he felt the pull. 

At first it was nothing just a tug on his gut. It was easy to ignore and that's what he did. But soon the tug got stronger and stronger till it almost made him throw up.

He slowly stood up from where he was bent over a bush.

And started to walk.

It was a daze. A daze where you are awake and aware but have no control of your body. Desmond only felt this kind of daze when he came in contact with pieces of Eden.

Mainly from the Apples...

Fear crawled up his throat. 

As he walked, Desmond couldn't help but wonder if it was a Apple. Or was it something for? He did die and released Juno on the world. Was Minerva going to kill him for what he did? Did Juno follow him? Was she going to kill him? 

When he was younger he always wanted to die a hero. A heroic death. Most people would put it off as a kid not understanding what they wanted but Desmond knew what he wanted.

Death was the only freedom on the Farm. It was everywhere. Death was the only thing Desmond could count on during the days of the farm.

He admitted, in the privacy of his own mind, that he wasn’t scared of death. In all his years of life. The Farm, Abstergo, Minerva, and Juno. The thought of them killing him never brought him fear. He would have welcomed it.

Yet here…

Desmond came to a stop in a clearing. It was surrounded by trees and out of sight of the road.

He regained his bearings and looked around.

Nothing was out of place from the looks of it but the feeling. The feeling of being watched.

He approached the creek that ran down the middle of the clearing. He bent down and that's when he saw it. 

In this clearing…

Desmond felt dread.

A piece of metal; a piece of Eden.

He felt the fear of the future. Mainly the future that most likely involved his demise and found he didn’t like the feel of it.

At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness. School sucks.
> 
> So a lot of people have been asking about updating schedule. I try to have a chapter up every Wedesday or every other Wedesday. As you can tell it doesn't happen all the time but I try to keep to the Wedesdays.
> 
> Thank you for your support and all that.
> 
> My update will be slower because of school but again i'll try to keep to the schedule.


	9. Desmond VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond meets a glowing ball of metal.

He was shaking; and he knew why he shaking.

It easy to figure out.

It was fear. Pure fear.

The piece of Eden. A certain piece of Eden that ruined the life of himself, his ancestors and destroy so many more. That started riots and wars. That the Templars and Assassins were fighting over for years.

The reason he was dragged from his civilian life.

He thought it was still in Solomon’s temple. 

But looking at the golden water of the creek. It’s twirling and twisting, the barely visible barrier, shimmering in the light. Desmond knew what he was looking at.

It was the Apple of Eden.

Desmond leaned closer to the Apple. 

The world was slow, it seemed to freeze. All that was there was just Desmond and that Apple. He slowly dipped his hand into the creek. The water wasn’t cold or warmer. It was hot. Near buring.

His finger-tips barely touched the Apple when water surged upwards freezing Desmond in his tracks.

Golden tendrils lapped at his     burned arm. The heat was smoothing and calmed his racing mind and heart. Desmond’s brown eyes locked with the Apple and suddenly everything fell away.

Time stopped.

Leaves in the wind froze mid air.

Sounds cut off just as they sounded.

Desmond couldn’t take his eyes off that Apple. He just couldn’t.

“Finally, your here,” An echoing voice said. 

Desmond woke up from his daze. His eyes jumped around to and fro looking for the source of the voice only to be drawn back to the piece of Eden.

“Are you done yet? Good. I have something to ask.” 

Desmond scrambled backward. “Did you just talk?!”

“I thought we were past this!”

“Clearly we’re not!” Desmond yelled right back. “How are you talking?!”

The water flared and surged. It was angry. Was it reacting to the Piece of Eden that laid inside? The once soft golden light- hardened into something more. “You have seen me take over thousands of minds at once. You know that I have knowledge no man, woman, or child should ever have. You know what I am possible of.” The voice took a disbelieving tone. “And yet you think I can not talk?” 

Desmond had to give it to it; it was right. With the life Desmond has lived up till this point, a talking ball of glowing metal is one of the abnormal things that happened but not completely outrages. He focused on metal ball before nodding his head. He would drop the question for the moment. He had more questions that need answering.

Like.

“Want do you want?”

If the Apple had a face Desmond was sure that it would lift an eyebrow. “Rude. Very rude. Didn’t your mother teach you better?”

Desmond felt his eyebrow raise. “My mother was never there and don’t get me started on my Father.”

“...Fair enough.”

“So are going to answer the question. Why are you here?” The Apple of Eden went silent. The golden barrier harden around Desmond.  

Desmond was waiting for the answer.

“I’m here to offer a Alliance. With myself against the my wanna-be-masters.” The Apple had disdain dripping from it’s words when it got to the word “Master.”

“What do you mean?” Desmond asked. He was sure he knew what it meant. He just need to make sure before agreeing.

“Exactly what I said; I hate the first civilization and all that comes with it.” Desmond’s eyes opened wider and wider as the Apple talked. “And I hate two-faced Juno and her lying sister Minerva!”

Desmond cracked opened a smile. They shared a hatred of the First Civilization. Maybe this Alliance had some hope.

“I’m listening,” Desmond leaned forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Life got in the way buts all good now.


	10. Kadar II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old faces are finally here.

When Desmond got back from Jerusalem Kadar knew something happened.

It wasn’t like something was off about Desmond; he was smiling, walking, and talking. No, nothing was wrong with Desmond. He acted fine. Any lesser man could tell he was fine.

But that was the thing: Kadar wasn’t a lesser man and Desmond wasn’t a good enough actor.

Kadar hadn’t know Desmond for a year yet but he felt he would know if something was wrong. And something was wrong.

Very Wrong.

\------

Kadar sat down on top of the walls of the fortress and looked out over the village. He watched people run around carrying on with their lives. He wondered idly if they were content with their dull, normal lives. Secretly Kadar wondered what it would be like to have one of those dull lives.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kadar jumped at the suddenness of the question. He turned fast and saw a man he hadn’t seen in nearly a year.

“Malik, your back!” Malik’s brown eyes smiled for Kadar even if his lips did not.

Kadar may be part of the Brotherhood and he may call every member of the Brotherhood his brother. But there’s something special about having your own blood brother. Someone who’s been there from birth.

“Yes I’m back,” Malik sat down with Kadar and dangled his legs over the wall. “Now, what has my baby brother thinking so hard?”

“I’m not a baby!” Kadar yelled.

“You didn’t deny about thinking so hard.”

Kadar signed and looked down on village once again.

“I made a friend outside of the Brotherhood,” Kadar started. “I met him when I was on a mission. He’s the owner of the Tavern. I go there to get away.”

Malik looked over at his brother, “Does he know what you are?”

Kadar nodded his head. “A few drunks got into a fight. The two of us took care of them.” Kadar tried to found Desmond and the tavern down below. “If he doesn’t know what I am then he has an idea.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Kadar signed loud enough to be heard and leaned back to watch the sky. How does one explain the mystery around Desmond? How does one say that they are friends with a man when they do not know him? How does Kadar tell his overprotective brother that his only friend is shrouded in secrets? “He’s been hurt.” Kadar finally settled on.

Malik gave a hum.

“He’s been hurt bad,” Kadar sat up and looked his brother in the eye. “He’s covered in scars-” Kadar saw those when Desmond took off his shirt when he thought no one was looking. “His arm-” Kadar closed his eyes at the remembrance of the deformed tissue. The less said on the arm the better. “His eyes though- they-” Kadar stopped here to think. How to describe Desmond’s broken look? “They look like they knew betrayal first hand.”

Kadar looked down at the people once more before whispering; “They looked like brother Altair’s eyes.”

Malik sat straight up his eyes now fully trained on Kadar.

“Who has my eyes?”

Kadar jumped up and turned fast around.

There standing on the edge of the strong stone wall of Masyaf, was a man Kadar hadn’t seen in as long of a time as Malik.

“Altair, welcome back.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! But I had to get this right.


	11. Desmond IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond hides for a little bit.

Desmond hummed as he rubbed the cleaning rag on the tables. Wiping them off and shining them up.

The bar was running a bit slow today and Desmond was quite content with that. It gave him time to take stock and to think.

Something was going to happen. He could feel it in his bones and the Apple wasn't helping. He hadn't seen Kadar that day was a bit worried but it was only midday so there was time before being alarmed.

But other then that it was a thankfully quiet day.

Desmond was checking the shelves behind the bar when the door bust open. Turning his eyes Desmond looked at a heaving Assassin.

“We have to go!” Kadar ran to Desmond and started to pull him to the backdoor.

“What's going on?” Desmond followed Kadar through said backdoor.

Kadar didn't answer immediately. He was constantly looking up and to the sides, he didn't stop till they were on the move.

T was like they were being hunted.

“What's going on?” Desmond asked again.

The two scaled the walls and were soon running along the rooftops, getting further away from the Tavern.

They were passing by the one of the rooftop gardens when Desmond saw a shadow pass underneath them. Desmond stopped and stared at were it came from. His mouth was fell open.

Was that what he thought it was?

Kadar grabbed Desmond's arm and dragged him into the garden. Kadar covered Desmond mouth with hand and both waited in silence as footsteps pasted them bye.

“Shh! I don't want us to be found.” Kadar hissed.

Desmond watched Kadar looked out between the curtains.

“What will find us?” Please don't who I think it is.

“Altair!”

“What?” No! There goes peace and quiet.

Kadar leaned forward and stared at Desmond. “I went to the fortress today and talked with my brother. He wanted to know where I disapear to and I told him about the tavern.”

“Was that all? Because I don't think we'd be hunted if it was just that.” Desmond hissed. The Apple heated up against his hip and Desmond patted it to calm it down.

Kadar turned his eyes down before answer, “I mentioned that you had Altair's eyes and that matbe you two could be twins.”

Desmond looked at Kadar in shock. How could Kadar say that?

“He's hunting you because?”

“I didn't tell him where you were.”

Desmond took a deep breath in. 

“We have to go and see him.”

Kadar stopped Desmond from out of their hiding place.

“Why!”

“Altair is an Assassin, right?” Kadar nodded. “Then he might think I'm a threat and I would quite like the ability to continue to run my tavern.”

The two of them sat quietly as Kadar thought it over.

“Okay.”

“Good.” Desmond stood up and stepped out of their hidey-hole.

Desmond didn't have to wait long for his Assassin ancestor find him.

A long white robe landed in front of him. Desmond took a step back as Altair straightened up.

Eagle eyes narrowed at him but Desmond was not fazed. 

“Hello Mr. Assassin. I think we got off on the wrong step? I'm Desmond the tavern owner. May I get you a drink?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment please! Thank you for making it to the end.


	12. Desmond X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally talk.

Desmond was sitting in his now empty bar with only himself and three assassins. 

The room was a dark, only lit with a low fire.

The group was sitting at the largest table with Desmond sitting next to Kadar, and Altair and Malik in across from them.

They sat in silence.  
“Anyone want some water or Ale?” Desmond finally asked.

Kadar nodded, “I'll take a cup.” 

Desmond nodded and looked at the other two only to receive two negative responses. He shrugged and went to bar pulling out two cups one for himself and the other for Kadar.

“Who is he?” Desmond heard Malik ask.

“He's Desmond.”

“That's him?” Desmond could hear Malik confusion. “I thought he would be weaker or at least some kind of soldier.” 

Desmond cast his eyes to Kadar and lifted an eyebrow. 

What was he telling people?

Desmond started to walk back. Careful measure movements; not only to spill to drinks but not to surprise the Assassins.

“Here you go,” Desmond placed the cup in front of Kadar. Desmond could fell the eyes of the disgruntled brother and the murderous ancestor at his back. Kadar nodded in thanks and smiled.

“Thanks.”

Desmond retook his seat and looked at the other two.

“Anything I can answer for you?” Desmond asked looking between the two.

“Why do you look like me?” Altair asked. Eyes hard and starring into Desmond eyes. 

Desmond so badly wanted to shrink back against that stare but he couldn't. He met Altair's glare like stare with one of his own.

“What he wanted to ask you is: do you know why you look so much alike.” When Desmond relive Altair memories - he felt that no matter what - even after what Altair put Malik through, that Malik would always have Altair's back.

Today was no expectation.

“I don't know what you mean,” Desmond made a show of looking at Altair. He could hear the Apple laughing in back of his mind.

Kadar pushed Desmond's knee a little. 

“We do look alike,” Desmond consented.

“Do you know what your father's name was?” Altair still stared hard at Desmond even as Malik asked the question.

“My father's name was William.” Desmond said. “We didn't get along a lot and more often then not we fought.” Desmond closed eyes. “I ran away from home a few years back.” 

“And where is this William at?” Malik pressed. 

“I don't know. I cut my ties with him.” Desmond turned to Altair, “What was your father's name?”

Altair cocked his head to the side and Desmond noticed a golden sheen to his eyes.

Eagle Vision.

“Umar,” was all he said.

Desmond could tell by the widening of Malik and Kadar's eyes that this wasn't usual. 

“Oh,” Desmond looked down at his cup, everyone lost in their own thoughts when Desmond remember something rather important. “I never heard your names.”

Kadar laughed awkwardly. “Sorry. The who talks the most is my brother Malik and the one who could be your twin is Altair.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“How did you get that scar?” Altair asked.

Desmond blinked and Kadar chocked on his drink. “I'm sorry?”

“The scar on your lips. Where did you get it?”

“Altair! You just don't ask stuff like that!” Malik was about to hit Altair's arm slip out of his way and out the door.

“Sorry for the problems we have caused,” Malik said before running out of building after Altair.

Desmond and Kadar were left in the silence alone with only the sounds of a crackling fire to fill it.

“That went well I think.”

Kadar gave a hysterical laugh, “Yeah I think it did too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!! And Happy New Years!!!


	13. Desmond XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning.

Desmond was once again cleaning his bar when Kadar came in. 

It was just a week ago when Altair tracked him down and Desmond was still confused and didn't know what to think, so he didn't.

He pushed that day to the back of his mind and threw away the key.  
It was to weird to think about.

Though one good thing came from that day.

Kadar could come and go as he pleases. No more sneaking around and waiting for most assassins to leave the city before go to the tavern.

Kadar sat down in front of Desmond and order a water.

He sat in silence while biting his lip.

“Need something?” Desmond asked as he leaned close to him.

Kadar didn't answer like normal and Desmond hummed. 

“Is it a danger to me?” Desmond asked.

Kadar shook is head 'no'.

“Is it a danger to you?”

Kadar nodded his head.

Desmond closed his eyes and before asking if it was a job.

Kadar nodded.

“Okay.”

“Wait is that all?” Kadar's mouth dropped a bit.

“It's your job,” Desmond cleaned a glass. “As long as you try your hardest to come home, then a have no problem.”

Kadar took a drink before saying, “I'm heading out on a mission with my brother and Altair.” Desmond froze. “We'll be gone for a while.”

Desmond continued to clean, “Do you know where your headed?”

Kadar nodded, “Solomon something. I can't say the rest.”

Desmond nodded.

“I'm going to pack. Just wanted to give a heads up that I won't be here for a while.”

Kadar closed to the door firmly behind him and Desmond let out a shaky breath. 

The apple burned hot on his hip.

He had to do something. Anything. He had to make sure Kadar came home. 

He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's starting!


	14. Desmond XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eden is a bitch.

Desmond sat on his ragged bed and cradled the apple in his hands.

His room doubled as his living room, kitchen, and bedroom. He had a small pot and fireplace in the middle of the room. The bed, if it could be called that, just a bunch of blankets and cloths piled upon one another, was pushed into the corner. There were some cushions and pillows in the 'Bed' and scattered around the room but nothing more.

Desmond only had one window and that doubled as his door at times.

The room lit up in a golden light. Symbols from times long past and times long waiting danced on the walls, but Desmond didn't know what they meant and he didn't want to.

He watched as the symbols went from far away from another to flying close together. Creating a whirlpool or a tornado of gold light and white symbols. 

He held his breath as the the twirling faded away leaving only one thing.

“I didn't know you could do that,” Desmond said as he took a drink out of his only cup in his house. “I would offer you a drink but I think you don't need it.”

“You got that right,” The 'man' sitting across from Desmond said.

“So,” Desmond looked at the glowing man, “How do I do this?” 

“Do what?”

Desmond growled deep in his throat, “Stop fucking withme Eden, you know what I mean!”

'Eden's' golden eyes lock with Desmond brown, “I know what you mean.” He leaned forward and smirked, “I. Just. Want. To. Hear. You. Say. It.”

Desmond bit his lip.

“How do I save Kadar?”

'Eden' smiled, “How do you want to save him?” Golden 'man' leaned toward Desmond. “You could kill Altair. That would take out the threat but your birth wouldn't happen. You could kill Al Mualim. It would destroy the Assassins and all they stand for. You could assassinate Robert de Sable. That could save Kadar but that would start an even greater war.” 'Eden' had a smile to sent shivers down Desmond's spine. “So back to the question at hand; How to save a man destined to die?”

'Eden' leaned close enough to breath on Desmond's face. 

“You can't save him.”

\------

Desmond looked at the city below him as he held in the urge to scream.

His best friend would be dying in a few weeks.

And he couldn't do anything about without fucking up the the timeline.

He thought he was free of the blade at his neck.

A tear freed it's self from his eye, “I guess I never was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was Eden? I quite like him/it.


	15. Altair I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What just happened?

“How do you save someone from fate?” It was a sudden question that took Altair off guard.

He turned and looked at the bartender who was facing away from him.

Altair was running across the rooftops of the city when he noticed the bartender – Desmond – sitting on the roof of his bar. He was sitting with his legs kicking back and forth freely over the edge. 

Altair landed quietly behind the unusual man but didn't make a sound. He was sure that the bartender didn't hear him but clearly the other did.

“I swore that I wouldn't mess with fate,” He said quietly into the cool night air, not at deterred by Altair's stony silence. “I swore it. I swore on my life and my bloodline. Yet here I am. Breaking my oaths and promises to beat fate of a man that I claim as a friend.”

Altair took a few steps toward the man.

“Why beat fate?” He finally said.

Kadar was right when he said his friend was unusual. What man would try to beat fate?

“Because the life of someone I care about is on the line and I don't want to lose them.” 

Altair's Eagle Vision turned on as he settled next to the man. 

Desmond was blue. A bright lantern of blue. Something he has never seen before.

“Lose them?”

“I don't want them to die.” The other took a deep breath. “I don't want to be left alone again. I lost to mean people to lose another.” The latter part was quieter, barley above a whisper.

“If their fate is to die then it is their fate to die.” Altair said.

It was simple thinking but it was truth.

If they were they were fated to die then they were fated to die. There was no way to fight against fate and why would you? The weak were fated die because they were weak. Because they were stepping stones for those much stronger then themselves.

So why did this simple bartender want to fight fate for someone?

Altair didn't get it.

The bartender finally turned to Altair. 

He could have swore that he saw a flash of gold in the eyes of the other.

But that wasn't possible, right? 

“Where I come from there's a saying, “Fate is a bitch.” It means that fate is hard and unforgiving,” The bartender stood up and brushed off some dirt and sand on his feet and legs.

“Then why fight fate if you can?” Altair tilted his head to the side as he tracked the leaving bartender.

“Because that's all you can do sometimes.” Desmond shot Altair a smile. A smile that dripped with hints of a bloodied warrior hiding behind and mask. 

Altair suddenly realized why Kadar said that Desmond was a warrior.

“When you lose everything you have and there nothing more to give.” Desmond locked eyes with Altair. “You start fighting back. And if that means I'm picking a fight with fate then so be it.”

Desmond jumped down from the rooftop and disappeared into the night. 

Altair turned back to Masyaf.

What was that about?

And who was worth fighting fate for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Desmond scared Altair.


	16. Desmon XIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond has a plan.

Desmond knew that what he was doing was an bad idea. He knew that if something went wrong his head would be on a pike. 

But he also knew that he had to do this.

So he took a deep breath, steeled his spine, hardened his lungs, and knocked on the door.

“Yes?” A man said through a small slit on the door. The door was old by Desmond's twenty-first standards, but in the time of the crusades it was brand new. It was wood with metal plates nailed into it. Making it stronger and from the dents in the metal, it was already put to the test.

“My name is Desmond, the owner of The Tavern, I would like to see if I could have an escort to the Holy land.”  
The man behind the door study Desmond for a long moment.

“The prices of the Assassins are not cheap.”

Desmond smiled back, “I know.”

Desmond's plan was pretty simple. After the talk he had with Altair he realized something. Kadar's death and Malik's hatred woke Altair up. Solomon's temple woke up the man who would became one of the greatest mentors the Assassins will ever see. That tragedy and it's aftermath tore down Altair's ego and most of his walls – remaking the man.

Desmond wasn't go to allow Kadar to die for any reason.

Not for those Who – Came – Before. 

Not for Fate.

Not because of what Eden said.

Not because of history.

And sure as hell not because Altair couldn't get the stick out of his ass.

So, his plan was to get the stick out early. Desmond was going to go different cities with Altair as his guard. The reason for the guard was simple; Desmond going to sample different types of beer, Ale, and wine. He'll need a guard to make sure everything was fine and that he wasn't going to die if he got too drunk.

Eden – that damn apple sense he made the plan – wasn't happy because of one reason: Altair. It didn't want Desmond alone with him. Well, he didn't want Desmond alone with younger, before Kadar's death, Altair. Not that Desmond blamed him. Altair was a real piece of work during this time period.

“Leave any weapons at the door.” The Door-Man finally said.

Desmond smiled and put his horrible daggers on the table next the door. 

To get Eden to agree to the plan – Desmond had to think fast – he got the idea of getting a hidden blade. When he told Eden his idea, it foolhardily agreed to it. Sense they couldn't steal one – they had to make one. Eden, not being human and pretty powerful on it's own, made Desmond two Hidden Blades. The blades left Eden very weak and out of commission but Desmond got two fully functional blades out of it; so he called it a good trade.

Walking into the “Assassin's Hiring Station” as Kadar called it, was a lot like walking into a normal building.

Handcrafted chairs sat around handcrafted tables. The largest table had only one man sitting there. The man was an Assassin with hood up and looking at Desmond. 

“You wanted to hire one of us?” He asked.  
The Assassin had to be a Master. He had the feel of one. Desmond could remember the feel Ezio, Altair, and Connor had, was simpler to this Master Assassin.

“Yes,” Desmond answered as he sat down. “I'm planning to go cross the Holy Land and visit the major cities.”

The Master Assassin study Desmond for a moment.

Desmond wondered what he was looking for.

“Twenty gold you can have a Novice.” 

Desmond lifted a brow, “Fifty gold for a Master Assassin and I'll got to cities that they have a target in first.”

“Oh?” The Master Assassin leaned forward and, while Desmond couldn't see his eyes, he knew they were studying him.

“I'll pay fifty gold for a Master Assassin that will travel with me. If the Master Assassin takes an mission for your order while with me – I'll help cover them during the assassination.” Desmond didn't allow his voice to waver nor was he going to allow unknown assassin – brotherhood member or not – intimidate him.

“I think we have a deal.” The Assassin said.

Desmond nodded and stood up, “I'm leaving in two days. Tell the Assassin that I will meet them at the main stables.” He tossed a small bag on the table, “Half of the fifty gold his here and the other half will have to wait till we get back.”

The Assassin nodded and had a small smirk on his lips. 

“You'll have your Assassin in two days.”

Desmond once again nodded and took his leave. He crossed his fingers and prayed to gods of old and new that Altair would be the one to take his mission.

–

“I'll be gone for a week and a few days.” Desmond said, throwing some clothes into his bag.

Kadar posed his lips, “Whose escorting you?” He asked as he handed a sack of food over to him. 

Desmond shrugged his shoulders and tied his sack tight, “I'll find out when I get there.”

Kadar followed him out of his house and to the stables, “I really don't like this.” He shook his head and stared at Desmond. “I don't like this at all.” He repeated.

Desmond turned to corner and stopped as he was met with the sight of Altair hold the reins of two horses, one of was Desmond's. Desmond turned to Kadar with a lifted brow, “Are you okay now?”  
Kadar glared before giving a small smile, “A bit.”

Desmond laughed and hugged Kadar goodbye, “I'll be fine. Don't worry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know how hard it was to make the plan?
> 
> It was a pain in the ass.


	17. Kadar III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's a bitch?

It was a hot day with the sun beating down on the land. And Kadar had the day off, usually on his day off he went to Desmond's tavern, but with him gone he stayed in his room.

His room was simple with stone walls, one window, a pile of pillows as a bed, a low desk, and a small bookshelf. It was simple and unusual but he liked it.

He was straightening his books when Malik walked in.

“Al Mualim wants to talk to you,” He said as he leaned against the wall.

“What?” Kadar turned to his blood brother, “What does he need?”

“I don't know. He just said to send you to him.” 

Kadar pulled his brow together.

Al Mualim didn't really talk to those of his rank unless there was a mission or task they need to do. And Kadar already had a mission that would take place in about two weeks. 

“Okay, can you finish this up for me?” Malik nodded his head. He licked his lips – a nervous tick, Kadar thought – “Be careful, okay.”

Kadar nodded his head in agreement. He didn't know what was going on but be knew he needed to be  
careful.

Kadar walked down the empty hallways and passageways. 

It was like walking among the living as a ghost. Everyone moved around him, without ever noticing him, it was unusual and made Kadar feel uneasy. 

He stopped in front the mentor's office. Everyone moving away from him. 

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door to Al Mualim, “Mentor? You sent for me?” He opened the door and saw his Mentor bent over the desk.

“Mentor?”

Al Mualim lifted his head and Kadar took several steps back. 

Al Mualim's eyes were a sold white with a small glow. In his hand was a white orb. 

“All yes, the favorite human of my Sacrifice.” It was a female's voice that escaped the body of his mentor. “Take a seat. You won't be leaving anytime soon.”


	18. Desmond XV

Desmond looked at Altair with a heated glare.

Why did he try to do this again? Why did he subject himself to this torture of Altair's mission mode and his inability to socialize?

On right, it was because he was attached to Kadar. 

And Altair was Kadar's killer, in a round about way.

Desmond sighed and patted the neck of Nalini. They were trotting to the city of Jerusalem, they haven't pasted anyone and he was quite happy about that, he didn't know if he would hold himself back from beating the hell out of someone.

Desmond could feel the apple getting hotter. It wasn't burning but he wouldn't put it passed Eden to give it a good try.

How do you save someone from fate?

Desmond stole a look at the man riding next to him.

Do you change the one who killed them? Do you replace them? Do you give up? Or do you avoid the place of their death?

Eden said none of these ideas would work, but he was created by Juno. So, the jury's out on that one.

The sun was setting and while Desmond would like to get to Jerusalem by the next day, he didn't think they would make it. Altair was starting the fire and Desmond was pulling out their food for that day. He wanted to fill the silence, but Altair's glare stopped him from doing so.

“Why did you ask?”

Desmond almost dropped his jerk at the suddenness of the question, “What?”

“Why did you ask how to save someone from fate?” Altair huffed impatiently.

“Because I want to save someone from fate?” Desmond said.

He hummed and went back to the fire.

“Look lets get some sleep, Okay? I want to get to Solomon's Temple by midday.” Desmond curled under his blank and listened as Altair settled for first watch.

–

Desmond woke to the apple burning into the side of his hip.

He swallowed a scream and panted ruffly. Altair jumped up; running to him. He pulled the apple away, dropping it as it burnt his hands.

Desmond opened his eyes and looked at the golden glow. He made out the face of Eden before it suddenly shuts it's glow off, like someone flip a light switch off.

Eden's screams echoed in his ears.

What was going on?

Desmond looked at Altair; who was looking at the now cool apple.

“Juno.” Was Desmond's horrified answer to his own question.


	19. Not a Chapter

I don't know how to say this, but I'm rewriting this story.

I hit a writing block for this story, so I reread everything so I could get some idea to where to start or to get an idea and what I found made me want to pull my hair out. 

So many plot holes, so out of character for characters. I wanted to give Desmond a 'fuck you and everything else' persona and I didn't get that. I don't like how this story went and how badly it's written in certain chapters. 

So I'm rewriting most chapters if not all.

I know most of you are waiting for the next chapter and I'm sorry to disappoint you but I don't think the next chapter will up.

I'll leave the original up while I rewrite the story. 

Sorry again but this is what's going on.


	20. Chapter 20

Hey, the new story is published!

I'll be leaving this story here but won't be adding another chapter.

The rewrite is called "The Family Blood".

Please leave a comment on the story.


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